9. Marie
9
MARIE
LOSS
W e’re walking along the hill overlooking the Sea on a warm July morning when Lisa doubles over and cries out. She places a hand on her lower belly and I know I’m about to meet my niece. Adrenaline surges through my system and keeps me from throwing up with anxiety.
“Fuck. We need to get you to the hospital,” I tell her as I slide under her arm to support her.
“She’s not supposed to come for another two weeks, Mimi.” Lisa cries out again, another contraction hitting her with force. “She’s supposed to be a Leo, not a Cancer.”
“Lili, I swear to God, no one cares about her star sign. Only that she’s healthy, and you too.”
I flag our protection detail so he can help me carry Lisa to the car. I text the family group chat before refocusing on Lisa who loses her waters on the leather back seat of her new Mercedes. Her forehead is damp with sweat and she breathes heavily. I don’t know what to do but I watched enough videos to know that we need to regulate her breathing.
“Follow my lead, Lili. In through the nose, slowly.” She imitates me. “And out through the mouth. You’re doing great. Keep going. How long before we reach the hospital?” I ask our driver.
“ETA in six minutes, Miss Moretti.”
My heart beats so fast in my chest I could faint, but all that matters is my sister and my niece. I can’t think about the bad feeling I have. I can’t.
“Hold on, Lili. We’re almost there.”
Right then, another contraction racks her body and her face contorts with pain, another cry torn from her throat. “Faster!” I yell, panicked and scared.
When we reach the hospital, our driver carries Lisa into the emergency section. Nurses reach us and with calm, practiced movements, set Lisa on a wheelchair before taking her away. I stomp behind them. “I’m coming with her.”
An older nurse with grey hair and a face that says ‘don’t fuck with me’ looks me up and down before giving her orders. “Take the patient to the waiting room. You,” she addresses me. “I need your name, the name of the patient and for you to calm down.”
I swallow and nod as we walk behind my sister who’s obviously in pain. The urge to take her hand and comfort her sings in my blood. But right now, she needs me to keep my head on straight. “Marie Moretti. This is my sister, Lisa Moretti. She’s thirty-eight weeks pregnant and a patient of Dr Olmeto. Her first contraction started about twelve minutes ago.”
“How spread are they?”
I close my eyes and try to count but I can’t focus. “I don’t know,” I say, fear clogging my throat.
“It’s okay, Miss Moretti. There could be a long time before the baby comes. We’ll monitor her. All you have to do now is be there for her and don’t interrupt my team,” the nurse says kindly but firmly. I nod and clench my hands together. My nails indent the skin of my palms. I have no clue what to do with myself.
Before the nurse can go inside the room they set my sister into, I stop her with a hand on her forearm. “She has stage two uterine cancer. Dr Olmeto planned for a hysterectomy right after the c-section.”
She tries to control it but her face turns sombre. “We’ll get everything ready.”
A team of people help Lisa remove her clothes and get into a hospital gown before they set her up on the bed. Bleach and lemon cleaner infiltrates my nostrils, the white walls assaulting my vision. The beeps of machines in this room and next to us feel and sound like the antechamber of death. Ants crawl up my limbs and I have to repress a full body shiver.
Over the course of the next hour, there’s nothing I can do but watch as my sister’s contractions make her howl in pain and thrash. Dr Olmeto has been called and will be here soon for the C-section, but in the meantime, we wait. My ribs are too tight for me to breathe. I sit down and rub my thighs mindlessly. Then I pick at my hands.
“Stop it, Mimi,” my sister says weakly, her hair sticking to her damp forehead.
“Stop what?”
“Worrying.”
“I can’t help it,” I tell her as I stand up and come to her, gliding a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Ember and I will be fine,” she says with a smile like all is well in the world. But nothing is well in the fucking world. I need a fucking drink, I’m scared shitless for my sister’s life and now, I’m scared for my niece’s life too. Worst-case scenarios run rampant in my head and I’m on the verge of a mental breakdown. The only reason I hold it together smiles at me softly.
“Ember?” I ask, focusing on Lisa.
She nods and I laugh, tears blurring my vision. It’s raw and far from joyful. “It’s a beautiful name,” I say and place a hand to Lisa’s belly. “I can’t wait to meet you,” I whisper softly to it and I swear she kicks into my hand.
Lana, Lisandru, and my parents trickle into the room, joy written all over their face as they come to kiss Lisa’s cheeks. My sister Angèle and her husband are the last to arrive. We’ve never been close. She’s been married for five years now. Lisa and I were just shy of fifteen when she left and she’s fifteen years older than us. I’m glad she showed up though. The entire family is in the room. It makes me happy for Lisa that everyone showed up for her even as loneliness rears its ugly head. It’s like I’m watching through a glass. The picture they paint is one of family bliss. Yet all I feel is emptiness, my head looking for my purse where what I need lies inside.
Shit. I forgot to pack a bag so I don’t have it with me. Thank God, I have my phone in my jean pocket so at least I have something to do while I feel like this. Maybe that’s why I open a new message thread and type.
Me
Lisa is about to give birth.
He told me to call when I felt like I needed a drink. I need a drink and I can’t have it. My hands and mind need another outlet, another distraction. Everyone is crowding my sister and talking animatedly. I’m forgotten in a corner, waiting anxiously for his response.
Nico Capaldi
How do you feel about it?
For the first time since we found out, someone is asking about me instead of Lisa and the baby. That shouldn’t make me feel good. It’s selfish and despicable to want attention when Lisa is the one who should get it. But still my cheeks heat and I type.
Me
Terrified. She has cancer. No one knows.
Nico Capaldi
I’m sorry.
I don’t know what else to do or say so I close the message app and refocus on Lisa.
A nurse comes in and starts to take the bed with her.
Lisa turns to me and extends her hand. “I want you with me.”
The nurse grumbles but let me follow as we move through corridors with automatic doors and into an operation room. If I thought the room we were in was cold, it was the warmest one I’ve ever been in compared to this one, with tiles from floor to ceiling, an aggressive white light overhead and a metal tray with tools I don’t know the name of. Dr Olmeto is here and invites me to put on a medical gown, a face mask, gloves and shoes protection.
Lisa holds my hand. “I love you, Mimi.”
“I love you, too.”
“Promise me you’ll take care of Ember if anything happens to me.” She squeezes my hands and her face scrunches with concern.
“Nothing will happen to you.” I already know it’s a lie but it feels good on my tongue.
“Promise me,” Lisa demands urgently and I vow to protect her daughter no matter what.
Dr Olmeto places a mask on Lisa’s face and the gas puts her to sleep in second. I stay close while she delivers Ember.
Something’s wrong.
“Why isn’t she crying?” I ask as someone takes Ember away and out of sight.
The monitor next to Lisa’s head starts to beep and my attention is split. “What’s happening?” I yell.
I can’t hear Ember. The noise of the machine gets louder and takes over my whole brain. I close my eyes. When I reopen them, my vision is blurry and my heart is pumping too fast. I heave and pant. A hand lands on my shoulder and I’m moved away from my sister but I resist.
“Tell me what’s going on!” My voice sounds so far away, broken and my throat tastes like ash.
I don’t know who, Dr Olmeto or maybe a nurse, but I’m taken away from the room as I cry and yell for someone to tell me what is happening.
When I’m out of the room, I land on my knees. Strong arms drag me away as I push against their strength to reach my soul mate, my sister, my everything.
My sister Alana’s face comes into view and she takes my face into her hands. “Get yourself together, Marie. Lisa needs you to focus.”
Lisa needs me, end of story, but I don’t say it.
A bottle of water is brought to my lips and though my throat is raw and I want to scream in pain, I swallow greedily until I’m calm enough to blink the tears away.
“What happened?” Lana asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” I repeat the words over and over until I collapse into my sister’s arms. She holds me against her and soothes my hair.
Time slows and warps.
I must lose consciousness at some point because when I come back to myself, a cold sweat staining my armpits and making me shiver, my family whispers around me, looking at me like I’m on the verge of another breakdown. I am, but I swallow and wait. The need for the burn of alcohol is so potent it almost seems like I’m sweating whiskey.
I stand and go to the bathroom down the corridor, tearing at the gown and face mask with shaky hands. I text Nico again.
Me
Something is wrong with Lisa.
His response is fast and not what I expected. Anyone would give words of reassurance. He doesn’t. And I appreciate it more than he will ever know.
Nico Capaldi
Whatever happens, she loves you and you her.
I’m so fucking tired of crying but tears leak again on my cheeks. When I wash my hands and look into the mirror, my face is puffy and red. I avert my gaze and go back to the waiting room. Dr Olmeto’s back is to me and my family looks on with their eyes wide. My mother is crying in my father’s arms. Lana’s knuckles are white with how much she clenches them.
“No.” The word is a guillotine in my mouth. “No, no, no, no.”
Dr Olmeto turns to me, her face torn with pain. “I’m sorry,” she says but I don’t hear.
All I hear is my scream.